Mini Tales of Sweeney Todd and Nellie Lovett
by VerelLupin
Summary: Collection of unrelated one shots showcasing Sweeney's and Nellie's up and down relationship. Sweetnett mostly.
1. 8 Acts of Selfishness

**Sweeney Todd and Mrs. Lovett (secretly Mrs.Todd - Don't tell Stephen S.) **

**Don't belong to me.**

**I've decided to put all my one shots together.**

**Some are from Nellie's view and others from Sweeney's**

**Enjoy...**

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The door reflected her face, it's startled look alien to her. However she'd never bothered to wonder what she looked like after he kicked her out, normally. So this was not as distressing as it had been weeks ago, with a deep sigh and several dress straightening motions, she made her dreary descent. Realizing not for the first time how selfish she was. 

Later that night, she turned on her side. Unable to sleep and facing the dark night, time seemed to fly backwards. Flashing in rhythm with the lighting illuminating her window. Memories spilled forth, sleep overtaking her and muting the boot heels clicking above.

As a girl she had admired hair. They way it could move and be shaped but nothing fascinated her as much as color. Her own hair had been a great disappointment, not red not brown but some dingy color in between. She'd made due after all it was her hair but how she envied other girls.

One in particular, one with pretty yellow hair. It looked like spun gold in the sunshine and curled in ways her own could only dream of but never achieve. So began the tale of her selfishness, she offered the little goddess her broken locket for a lock of gold. Little Lucy hadn't cared, the locket was worth far more than the lock and she could discern the difference. So Nellie gave up a prized possession for nothing in return. Her first Act.

Years passed and both girls grew beautiful, but Nellie never did learn how to curb her desires. Young Lucy went to visit her and had ended up interrupting a nice chat between herself and a local barber.

Lucy had arrived at the shop earlier that expected, screaming like a banshee. Her pale hair mussed and remains of what had once been a very elegant purse. She screamed to all who would hear that she'd been attacked, her goods stolen.

Nellie's parents worried for the safety of their daughter on regular errands to the market, discontinued the practice. Nellie knew she would never see her young barber otherwise so she committed her second act of selfishness. She invited Lucy to walk with her.

After their marriage, Nellie immersed herself in baking. Preferring to pound out her sorrow onto the bread, rather that her pillow. Which made it possible to be noticed by one, Albert Lovett. Her third act began. Without loving the man, she married him. He owned a shop in Fleet Street, a few blocks were her barber had his own home. Her third possession, freedom was sacrificed for a glimpse of chestnut waves that belonged to Benjamin Barker.

Nellie had resigned her life to a fat, violent man who cared little for her. Happy in the knowledge that Benjamin would come once a week to savor one of her jelly biscuits. He would pop in for a few minutes, chat her up and smile in delight at whatever new flavor she tried. These biscuits were not sold and unbeknownst to Benjamin she made enough only for him.

He would have it with breathtaking slowness, allowing the jam to sit on his tongue. Nellie did wonder how she managed not to pass out from lack of air, when he did this. His hat covering that lovely hair, he would wave and take what little sunshine was in her life. Her fourth act complete.

Some more months passed and he stopped coming into the shop, he was always so hurried. Sometimes he would wave as he passed by but most times he wouldn't. Then news came Lucy's parents had died in a carriage accident, Lucy herself had come to Nellie.

Lucy had confided in great shame, that her parent's had owed a large sum of money. Even now creditors were at her door. Her home was sold to pay off the debts as it had not yet been changed to Lucy and her family. Lucy remembered Nellie's compulsions, she had always had a suspicion why Ben always came home smelling of bread and fruit.

So since Lucy could discern the difference between a valuable gold necklace and a piece of hair. Nellie followed her heart and committed her fifth act. She let them have the room above her bakeshop for less than half what it was worth.

She was rewarded with a severe beating much worse than the others. Her illusions handed over for the haven of Benjamin's arms for a few precious minutes.

Two years later Albert met his heavenly reward, Nellie regained her freedom. Lucy all too aware of the nature of men especially near pretty women, forbade Benjamin to socialize with their lovely landlady.

Nellie continued in the same existence, basking in her role of helper. Lucy would complain of headaches and stomach illness. Nellie cleaned up the room and made dinner, always ignoring the fact that she was helping mend Benjamin's shirts more and more often.

It was then that Lucy took her last precious possession, she informed her that she was with child. Nellie handed over her very person, ignored her shop. Only waiting until she could glimpse Benjamin from her window. Once she knew he was home she would flee to cry in her own rooms.

It was one of those times, that disoriented she had opened the door without bothering to see who it was. He had actually raised his voice to her, but it was a gentle reprimand for her. He feared for her safety as a women alone, so he sat with her and they chatted like all those days long gone.

She rose and handed him a strawberry tart.

He smiled and pecked her cheek, "My angel" he called her and left.

That would get her through the morning until he was taken to Australia the next day. For ten years she took care of Lucy, giving up every night as Lucy's mad ravings kept her awake. Her every morning taken with the daily struggle of keeping Lucy calm as she screamed for her husband and child.

Nellie finally gave up what was left of her spirit getting nothing in return but the memories of Benjamin's departure, no longer thinking of his return. She had accompanied Lucy, the poor thing had been unable to do anything more but cry.

In her sixth act, she had gone to help her friend but in reality had wanted any opportunity to engrave every last detail of his person in her mind's eye, for her to pull up on cold London nights.

She had begun to escort Lucy back but Benjamin had grabbed hold of her hand. His strong thin fingers placing the care of his wife into her pale hands. Her seventh act consisted of this promise and he received her love, leaving it behind him on the dock.

Her world had come full circle, Benjamin had not returned but there was darker man in his stead. A man who was his dark twin, a man named Sweeney Todd, who had no memory of the sweet baker he had once called his angel. He unlike Benjamin exploited her love, picking it up on his boot heels and dragging it through all of London, making it unrecognizable.

Nellie committed her final and eighth act, she gave him her soul. Cleaning up for him, feeding him and most importantly helping him fulfill his revenge. Her pride tattered, she waited on his, endured his bouts of madness for the most worthless of all her bargains. A fleeting tender look that lasted no longer than a blink.

Suddenly and roughly she was shoved against the wall. The spell of her dreams and memories broken by the contact of another.

Blearily she was forced to recognize that the bed was dipping with a new weight. Without any finesse or thought for her, she was mashed against a cold body.

She lay still unsure of how to proceed. His breathing evened and she slowly turned to face the harsh lines of the man next to her. He lay on his back, his face taunt with horror even in sleep, she smoothed the tension between his eyebrows.

In her mind, his face was transformed and flushed with color. The ghostlike white mixing with the coal black hair and morphing into the lush wavy chestnut she remembered.

Nellie began to wrap her arm around his middle, but he froze and shoved her away from him. "Don't. Touch. Me." he growled, his body repositioning so only his heavily clothed back was facing her.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, her tears muffled by the pillow. Her gaze fixed on the patched wall, imagining a baker and barker eating hot honey currant pies in an old shop nowhere near fleet street.

Her reverie was broken as he lashed out forcing a squeak out her. At first she thought he might be in a struggle with a nightmare. Closer inspection surprised her, '**es reaching out for me.'** She turned to the ceiling in wonder**, 'at least that's what you hope,'** a tiny voice remarked, wanting to remind her of his wife.

That last thought floating in her mind, she allowed him to drag her to him, his body soaking the warmth leaving her empty and alone but with him beside her.

Sleep claiming her a second time, his body pressed intimately against her. She was softly falling into slumber when his breath of warm air fanned her ear. "My angel." A great smile graced her face.

Yes, Nellie Lovett had never learned to curve her selfishness.


	2. Cleaning Isn't What it Used to Be

**Sweeney and co belong to someone, not me**

**Just popped into my mind, I think of strange things sometimes. (Ok, all the time)**

**I swear I'll update Slashes of Black soon**

**Enjoy**

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The sponge drew lazy circles on the worn material, its red leather much redder than usual. Her hand teased every drop of blood from it. Its creases giving up the last of its secrets. She moved to the back of the chair where more blood waited, ready to be removed. Her hips were high in the air, on her hands and knees, she was intent of getting rid of all evidence. 

(Completely unaware of her captive audience.)

She moved onto the windows, rising on tip toe to reach every last casement. Her already revealing dress becoming more so by the apparently frigid water. The windows and casings rubbed down expertly and quickly.

(His mouth becoming particularly dry by this point.)

"Mercy, 'ow does so much red come out of a body." she was muttering, running a critical eye over the rest of the shop. The floors were next, the scrubbing was much worse. Her dress a hindrance, it was neatly tucked high on her knees. Her lacy black dress in sharp relief against the backdrop of ivory legs.

(She stopped, she'd distinctly heard a chocking sound.)

She paused a moment. Shrugging she continued her work, her body extending as far as physically possible, leaving the floors immaculate and shinny. She stretched out her back, her gaze going to the ceiling. She got up slowly, accessing the room once more.

(The barber loitering outside his own shop, a sigh of relief escaping him.)

She clambered onto the barber chair, her dress till hiked up to her knees. Every swipe of the rag pulling them higher. Satisfied with her handy work, she stepped back. A short scream rent the air.

(A door was violently thrown open, rushing to the rescue.)

She had obviously disabled the chair, not wishing to plummet to her death. In her haste, she had stepped backwards, hitting the lever with her boot.

(Always practical, Mrs. Lovett was.)

The trap door had opened but only a inch, the chair however had tipped halfway. Part of her hem had caught on the armrest. The result being as the chair tipped, her skirts ripped and the rest of them had flipped over her head.

(Muttered obscenities filled the small attic, "Mr. T?" her voice muffled by her voluminous skirts.)

"It's alright pet, I'll right you." his gruff voice strained. "I'm not hurt, Mr. T. 'mbarrased beyond all." she mumbled. Her bloomers were in full view for the world to see. Pale pink lace cut high above the knee, black ribbons embroidered and tied delicately into a flirtatious little bow.

(Hard eyes raked her well shaped torso, admiring her flailing limbs.)

He kneeled, sticking his hands underneath her upside down skirts. Trying to locate her shoulders to push her upright. "Mr. Todd." she squealed

('Clearly not her shoulders.' a dull blush stealing over his pale face.)

One hand lifted her skirt and she peered out at him owlishly. Her other hand was resting on the floor, she let go of her hair. She waved her hand blindly at him. He slid closer to her and she pulled him towards her.

(The disconcerting position of being face to face with a lady and beneath her dress at the same time.)

She giggled at his startled face, "No frets love, honest mistake 'hat was." her curls were mussed and formed an auburn curtain around them. Her eyes searched his face, confused by what she saw in his normally empty eyes. They bumped noses, her breath fanning against his lips.

(Without reason, he brushed them against hers. His long dark lashes sweeping his cheeks as they closed.)

Taken completely aback, she stepped backward a second time. This time flinging her backwards, landing with a pained thump. Her skirts high around her waist, her legs spread awkwardly.

(So there had been a chocking sound.)

Unsure of what to say, he stepped from behind the chair. He stood before her, all thin and looming. His hand outstretched to help her up. Once on her feet, she grabbed her bucket and ran.

He stood there in his clean shop, a look of confusion on his face. A streak of sunshine broke through the gloom, illuminating a rare smile.


	3. She is, was Naive

I was hearing the soundtrack and I thought of these lyrics and then the story burst forth, like a spray of lovely rubies. (sorry bit morbid, there)

I tried my best to match the song. It was bloody hard!!

Anyways Enjoy!! Reviews enjoyed - flames will be use to bake the pies.

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The bake house was hotter than usual, its light merrily licking at the grisly remains. She peered up at the floor of the barber shop, it underside innocent. It hides secrets like her, it appears clean but is drenched with the blood of neighbors and complete strangers. 

**There was a barber and his wife**

**And he was beautiful**

**Sent to Australia for life**

**He returned to find his wife**

It eats away at her, she rubs her chest. The knot forcing her to breath, the smell of all her misdeeds choking her lungs. She covers her mouth, stilling the scream that's trying to break free.

**Dark and beautiful**

**Todd he said his name was, Sweeney Todd**

His crime was mine, foolishness that is. Nellie sighed her arms aching. The bones crunch and shatter. She closes her mind, desperate too drown out the sound of her own morals disintegrating.

**There was a woman, you see**

**Pale little thing, stupid little nit**

**Would have killed to get a smile from him. poor thing, poor thing.**

It was so easy at first, just another customer but she saw through his darkness. Her Benjamin had returned, no not her Benjamin but a new man. A man that had no claim and she had tried. She could help him forget, maybe in time he would even love her but she realized.

**She was in love with him**

**Wanted him like mad**

She had realized, he was taken and like Benjamin had been taken in by yellow hair. Beaten by a woman who could not claim him. The customers became ingredients but he became less fair, more demon than angel and it weighed on her. She had forced the change.

**Everyday she worked on her flour**

**Watched him, sit down and glower**

**Saw her dream turn sour, poor fool**

She gave him everything, it was her fingertips that caressed his face. It was her hands that saved his silver friends. She began to cry, the meat salted by her misfortune. His face a mask of living death, he would leave her and go meet his Lucy.

**Didn't realize what she done, poor thing.**

She worked the crank, her arms and body frail and beaten by the sudden realization. He would leave her at first chance. She would rather he kill her, that than to leave her abandoned.

**She took Mr. Todd to his old rooms. poor thing, poor thing**

**She made a mistake and told him lies,**

**She tells him what happened to his wife**

**She swallowed poison and took her life. poor thing, poor thing**

Worthless to the world once more. No dreams to sustain her this time.

**Of course when she tells him, poor thing, poor thing.**

**The Judge now has his darling girl**

**He goes and screams like a mad old thing**

**She wonders where she went wrong poor thing**

**Now he's tormented by revenge poor thing**

**He won't rest til Judge Turpin is slashed**

The meat gurgled through, she laughed hysterically. Was this her life, to be forever a shadow? An actress that moved and laughed on an empty stage to a hollow audience. She pictured the curls of his hair, the dark and light close but never entwined. Like them close but forever apart.

**He set up shop and set her to chop**

**He decides to go on a killing spree**

**Everyone deserves to die**

She pictures all the customers that will continue to taint his soul. A soul already damaged, damages that she had brought onto him. She stops, the guilt layering itself. It wraps around her throat, suffocating any kind of happiness she could get out of their arrangement.

**She sees the madness inside, you see**

**Those meat pies continue for love, you see**

**Pour soul, poor thing.**

"Nooo." the scream is yanked from her throat. "I can't, I can't." she sobs. She crumples to the floor, her dress collapsing in on her. The desperation making claws of her hands, ripping the ornate grave.

It's given in but she continued to tear at the very air until she lays bleeding and spent on the ground. Unable to shush the voices, all the voices and hands she can picture rising from the grinder. Coming to greet her into her own personal hell.

She continues screaming, not daring too stop. The noise seeming to keep them away, she crawls backward, her dress left behind. She moves closer to the fire, begging for forgiveness.

"What happened, why'd you scream…" his sentence is cut off. He is shocked at the ruined woman, her dress ripped to shreds, her hair held in a violent tantrum. She looks at him, he steps back at the brutal betrayal in her eyes.

They no longer resemble warm chocolate but an ever darkening ocean that will pull him under if he looks too deeply.

For once, he is the aggressor. "Mrs. Lovett? My Pet?" he moves close anything to get her to move, to acknowledge him. He is scared of her stillness, he touches her warm cheek.

She cowers as if struck, he pulls back. Surprise etching deeper lines in his worn face. He turns to look behind him, trying to understand what it is that holds her attention. Sweeney kneels in front of her, he grasps her hands. Their sticky nature evidence of what had caused her breakdown.

Like the demon they accused him of being she snarled at him. "Leave."

"What?" surprise bringing a new change to his normally empty eyes.

"Leave this place," she shouts. "Leave Benjamin Barker." Shoving him roughly away from her, her own back closer to the oven. "Get the beggar woman, there you will find your Lucy." the fight drains from her.

Sweeney stands over her, cannot comprehend what she is saying. "Lucy is alive?" he inquires wonder uncurling the harshness off his face, lifting years off of him. "You lied to me?"

"I didn't lie, never lied. Said she took poison never said she died. I would have been twice the woman she was. Because I love you." she wrapped her arms around her, her dreams dissolving like the finest spun sugar she so loved as a child.

She faced her demons head on, but they had gotten their pound and retreated forever banished by her anguished truth. He left swiftly, his boot heels clicking every last beat of her love away.

She burned the last of the bodies, bones and all. Destroyed the last of the pies as well as any remnants of clothing she could find, including her dress.

She scrubbed the bake house, diminishing every last drop of blood. She did the same with the barber's shop, disabling the chair. She lays in her bed, the silent ceiling a testament to what the lies had gotten her.

Nellie Lovett would never bake another pie with meat, she had her Toby to see to that.

Mr. Todd would probably never darken her doorstep again,

but at least she had set them both free.


	4. Night Shift

**You know the drill, Sweeney and Co. belong to Yada Yada Yada**

**Enjoy**

****

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She had her back to him, a thin material covering her from the night's cold. Her hair was not its usual hairdo. It lay wavy and long, tightly braided and hanging down her back. He'd never seen her in her shift before. Her curves were generous but he found himself surprised at her frailty. She always looked so formidable in those dark gowns of her.

He shook off the feelings of concern, she was her own woman. Not his to watch over.

Yet he couldn't help it, the up and down rhythm captured him, lulling him where he stood. Her spine was slightly curved, damp tendrils sticking to her sweat covered skin. She stopped a moment, her labored breaths bringing a desire to pant along with her.

In a haze, Sweeney advanced closer, **'What of Lucy, stop…' **He hesitated but her movements were too much for him to ignore. Quietly sneaking his arms around her. "What the devil," she tried whirling around but his body obstructed her, his back was pressed against the butcher block leaving little room for maneuvering.

"Hush, my pet." his tone was gruff. His warm breath sliding over her skin mimicking his hands which slithered down her forearms. Fingering the delicate skin of her wrist, delighting in the contrast to her work rough hands.

She gasped but no sound came out, he had taken advantage of her open mouth. She whimpered, his eyes remained opened absorbing her own wide ones. His hands were on top of hers, submerged in a sea of red.

The linen was rough in their intensity. Water sloshed over them, her body transparently bared. He released her mouth over and over, each time pressing harder against her soaked garment. He abandoned her mouth, his kisses crawling up her nape. He hungrily licked and nipped, tracing the curve of her earlobe, eliciting moans from her.

She attempted sliding her hands out of bloody water, but his hands held onto them. Painfully squeezing and digging his nails into her palms. "You're a bloody wonder. My love." he uttered, his husky timbre laced with need and quickly losing self control.

He brushed her collarbone, leaving a faint wetness. Nellie supported his weight, it was killing her legs but she didn't want to stop whatever madness had taken over him. Lord only knew when he would show her such affection next time. He sucked on her neck, enjoying the erratic jumping of her pulse, he felt as if he was drinking her very life from it.

Her head was now leaning on his shoulder, her braid having come undone his nimble fingers. He breathed her hair in, loving the curls that hugged his face. Her hair welcomed him, just like she had, like she always would. He felt unnatural tears dampened his eyes.

He abruptly left her, his hands dropping from her hair as he made his escape. Her neck throbbed, the air chilling the dampness he had left behind. Nellie sagged against the counter, her eyes caught on their twins in a mirror. The image of the woman blinking back at her took her breath away.

Her hair was freed and wild, her skin flushed and bruised. Her nightgown had gone a metamorphosis too. It was not old and white any longer. It had under, Mr. Todd's artful hands become newer and red highlighting only the best in her. Nellie was awestruck by her transformation.

Looking away from the tantalizing image, she finally removed her hands from the cold water. Her poor hands were numb but she didn't hesitate to pull the now incredibly white linen shirt that belonged to Mr. Todd.

It was no longer a dingy gray but a sparkling white. She giggled in delight, **'If Mr. T wants to ambush me like that, he'll no' have any worry about bloody shirts.' **

Merrily finishing off the pile, she hung them to dry. She placed herself near the fire, "Wonder if he knows what today is?" Contemplating her mysterious barber, she was happy to hear he wasn't pacing, while the images of them brought her warmth.

**AN: What did you guys think she was doing? Dirty Minds think alike... Teehee**


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